Tonight I went out and picked two more tomatoes off my anonymous tomato vine. Odd. I thought I was growing Black from Tula and Green Stripeys, but somehow this summer, I got Green Stripeys, something that lookd a lot more like Black Krim than Tulas, and three or four odd plants. There must have been some weird cross pollination going on because I got beefsteak-style, some about that size but with pointy ends, and some with the dusky black tomato look, same size, all from the same hodgepodge of plants. There would be distinctly different shaped tomatoes growing next to each other. They were, of course, all excellent.
(the green stripeys are the tiny ones hiding under the big reds--click on the picture, and they're right of the middle--alas, they are all gone. Crisper, more citrus in flavor than the standard tomato)
I have one green tomato left out there, and a few that linger outside the safety of our garden cage. Offerings for the squirrels, mostly. There are a few jalapenos, a few green peppers, and then we're down to the herbs. There's still a lot of parsley and basil and mint. I have some thoughts about these. Some pesto, some herbed butter, some dried for winter. I'm not sure about the mint.
We talked this evening about how we've almost used up our garlic for the year already (we've made a lot of pesto and sauce). Next year, we're not going to try beans or watermelon (we never got watermelon to fruit, and the beans only ever produce enough for a few meals, maybe throw in to a salad or soup. They don't enchant me the way that tomatoes and hot peppers do. So next year we're planting first year garlic everywhere there was a bean plant, and second year garlic where the watermelon vine languished. As time goes by, you figure out what works. What's worth it. I wish we'd been able to make a cucumber grow, but all my vines shriveled miserably. I wish in general that we had space enough to justify potatoes, okra, zucchini, but we just don't. This is where we live, and tomatoes, peppers, garlic, and herbs will have to be what we have.
On my way back in, I spied a moonflower blooming on the vine that trails up our porch. I called to Sophia, and she came out to see. Then she went in and got her sister, and they both stooped down in the darkness with a little camping lantern, admiring the huge white blossom.